Unobtainable
by PorcelainDoll97
Summary: "I'm no longer surprised at those Centaurs for horsing around over some cute filly when they were full of wine" -Ovid A story in which Bellamy and Clarke play a dangerous game
**This story is based off of Poem 4 within The Amores: Book 1 by Ovid. I thought it fit the 100 characters pretty well.**

The Collins threw some of the most lavish parties in all of Washington D.C.. To be invited to attend was such a great honor that no one would ever refuse.

If Bellamy Blake were any other person, he would be confused concerning his invitation. Why would he, a regular police officer, be invited to a celebration for politicians and business owners?

The invitation was no surprise to him. She always urged him to come to her parties and Bellamy always accepted. But this one was different. Her husband would be present. Bellamy accepted nonetheless.

Bellamy arrived at the Collins' house in his charcoal lavish front door was already propped open and guests were mingling in the foyer. Bellamy knew exactly where to find her.

He walked up the steps and through the twisting halls. He rapped three times upon the light wood of her door. She called to let him in.

She stood in front of a vanity with pearls in hand. A long green evening gown was snug against her body. Her curly blonde hair was pinned to the top of her head. A dusting of makeup was placed over her face. Her rouged lips grew into a smile as he entered.

Bellamy took the pearls from her hand and wrapped them around her neck. He hooked the clasp before trailing kisses from her chin to her shoulder.

"You look amazing, Princess." Bellamy whispered. She sighed into the band behind her.

"You can't call me Princess tonight." Her smile slipped away.

"Well then, you look amazing, Clarke." Bellamy corrected himself.

"You better kiss me right now, or I don't think I'll be able to make it through the night." Clarke sighed and raised her lips to Bellamy's. It was a quick kiss, for a moment later a knock sounded at the door. Clarke jumped away from her lover and checked her lipstick before granting the person permission to enter.

Finn had sent someone to fetch Clarke. Clarke's smile fell and she reached for Bellamy's hand. He squeezed hers before dropping it. She floated out of the room without turning back.

Bellamy slowly made his way to the dining room. He was placed close to Clarke, but not close enough. Finn was in the seat that Bellamy wanted. Bellamy wished for nothing more than for Finn to drop dead at that very moment. Finn had no right to squander away the perfection of Clarke. She deserved someone who could worship her.

Clarke passes by to greet another guest. Bellamy has to hold himself back from reaching out to her. It is an instinct. He cannot help himself. He needs to touch her.

She returned to her chair and tapped Bellamy on the way before putting on her respectable wife expresion. In return, Bellamy cocked up a brow and gave her a smile.

Clarke touches her thumb to her cheek and Bellamy knows. The signal means that Clarke is thinking about the last time they had made love. Filled with pride, Bellamy launches into conversation with the woman, Raven, sitting to his right.

With small peaks, Bellamy keeps an eye on his lover. He catches sight of her pinch her earlobe when he brings up a particularly nasty topic. Seeing Clarke's distain forces him to drop the topic immediately.

Finn places his hand on Clarke's lower back and attempts to include her in the conversation he is having with an official named Wells. In response, Clarke neatly folds her hands on the table. It is a seemingly meaningless gesture, but to Bellamy it means that she wishes Finn to suffer misfortune.

Bellamy tells Raven about the woman he loves without saying any names. Hw catches Clarke's eye as she twists the engagement ring around her finger. She likes that he says such things about her.

A waiter comes around with a platter full of wine glasses. Clarke gingerly accepts one and takes a sip before placing it back on the tray, claiming it was too bitter. Bellamy signals the server over and accepts the glass of wine which Clarke had rejected. He placed his lips over the red stained glass and took a sip.

It was torture for Bellamy to watch Finn try to love Clarke. Finn attempted to rope Clarke within his arms, but she refused him. Bellamy could see Finn's hand traveling up Clarke's thigh before she batted it away.

All these things he could take, but if Finn were to try to kiss Clarke, Bellamy would have told the truth. He would have pushed away from the table and proclaimed himself Clarke's lover. He would be the one to touch her. He would be the one to receive her kisses.

Bellamy watches closely, making sure he doesn't miss a movement. He doesn't want Clarke's thigh to brush against Finn's. He does not want them to play footsy. Of course, neither happen.

Clarke continues to urge Finn to drink more until he was comfortably drunk. Too drunk to notice the affair that was happening right before his eyes.

When the party was finally over, people flooded the door. Bellamy was on his way out when Clarke placed a hand on his shoulder. They were in the middle of the crowd. Everyone could see them. Both knew a kiss was too dangerous. This much contact was dangerous itself, but both needed each other.

They stood together for a moment, not moving. Bellamy was the last one to leave. He sat down on the doorstep, unable to move. Clarke had been locked back in her castle. Who knew how long it would be until the next time their paths crossed.

Bellamy longed for what Finn was promised. The kisses were too sparse. Bellamy could only pray that Clarke denied Finn any contact. Bellamy wanted it all saved for himself.

All Clarke had to do was tell Finn 'no' and tell Bellamy 'yes'.


End file.
